Sometimes the things we don’t want to do become the things we’re most glad we did.
I just got back from running an errand I didn’t want to run. In fact, I tried six ways from Sunday to justify not doing it today, or ever, but God wouldn’t leave me alone until I did the inconvenient, right thing.
I sure don’t deserve any pats on the back. When you see how long it took me to obey, you’ll know what a spiritual wimp I can be.
A couple of days ago, I went to the CVS store in Abbeville to use the 20-foot streamer of coupons I’d earned. One could almost wallpaper one’s bathroom with the paper those CVS registers spit out.
My purchase that day included two bottles of “Oil of Delay” facial moisturizer. But when I got home and unloaded my bargains, I discovered a third bottle of a pricier moisturizer in the bag. I assumed I must have accidentally bought it, which somewhat dimmed my bargain-loving glow, but I wasn’t going to traipse all the way back to the store for a refund.
Later on, I felt compelled to check the receipt, which I’d already chunked in the trash, so I rummaged through the coffee grounds and rotten lettuce leaves until I found it. I discovered the more expensive lotion actually hadn’t been rung up.
I’m ashamed to say my first reaction was, “Wow! A little blessing from God.” But two days later I woke up in the morning with that bottle of “free” moisturizer pricking my conscience like a sand burr. I opened my bathroom cabinet, saw that lotion there, and realized it had become my version of the ill-gotten booty Achan sneaked from the ruins of Jericho and unsuccessfully (and fatally) tried to hide from God (see Joshua 7).
My Bible reading that morning was in 2 Chronicles, which describes the nightmarish roller-coaster ride the Jewish people endured as their kings alternately followed and abandoned God. The obedient kings brought prosperity and peace to the nation; the disobedient kings brought all manner of misery.
But even after those timely Biblical reminders of the importance of obedience, I was still feeling conflicted about my moisturizer “windfall” because I just didn’t want take the time to drive back to the store.
The Holy Spirit—the One who comes to reside in us when we accept Christ’s invitation to follow Him—isn’t called “the hound of heaven” for nothing. Once He gets a whiff of our rationalizations, justifications and disobedience, He relentlessly tries to get us back on the right path.
I knew I’d have no peace until I took that lotion back to the store, so I went, sensing that this might be more than a test and lesson for me about integrity. I also felt it was perhaps for the employee who’d be working the register, even if he or she thought I was nuts.
When I returned the bottle and explained how God just wouldn’t let me keep it, I was so glad I’d finally obeyed. It wasn’t anything the clerk said; it was the look on her face and the way she thanked me repeatedly, as if she were flabbergasted.
We often never know the ripples our actions send out, but our both our obedience and disobedience affects others. And it certainly affects us. I’m desperately dependent upon God to empower me to do everything He’s called me to do. Writing, teaching, counseling, being a wife, mother, grandparent, and friend—all of it.
Disobedience creates noise in my heart and in my relationship with God I can’t afford.
We can’t put a price tag on peace of heart, but I know this: it’s worth a whole lot more than any bottle of lotion.